


You've Got a Superhero on the Squad

by Serendipity8832



Category: 6 Underground (2019)
Genre: AS WE ALL DID don’t lie to yourself, First Meetings, I’m back on my bullshit, M/M, Pre-Movie, Pre-Slash, Rated teen for language, finally did Six’s pov, return of the Six/Four agenda, this is basically just 2k of Six thirsting over Four, you know the drill by now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29876643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serendipity8832/pseuds/Serendipity8832
Summary: Six would have been lying if he said he hadn’t taken one look at the blond madman who was currently halfway up the landing gear of a somewhat decrepit plane and thought,Sign me the fuck up.Six meets the team (but especially Four).
Relationships: Four | Billy/Six (6 Underground)
Kudos: 13





	You've Got a Superhero on the Squad

**Author's Note:**

> So it took me long enough, and I’m sorry for the wait (if any of you actually cared enough to be waiting for this I guess), but I finally wrote something from Six’s POV! Not gonna lie, this thing fought me the whole way, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Keep an eye out for something else in the near future!
> 
> Also I don’t know how I missed One canonically referring to the plane graveyard as the “haunted house” until my fourth time watching the movie all the way through. I also missed that the play One and Rovach are watching in that one scene is Richard III for the longest time, despite having just read it, so maybe I just don’t notice things that aren’t queercoded.
> 
> Title is one of Six's canon quotes about Four.

Six would have been lying if he said he hadn’t taken one look at the blond madman who was currently halfway up the landing gear of a somewhat decrepit plane and thought, _Sign me the fuck up._

Of course, he wasn’t prepared to admit that to anyone else, but the thought was definitely there.

For context, not that there was much context for the most interesting aspect of the situation, Six had just died. Legally, anyway. There was a long and complicated series of events leading up to his death, beginning with his uncle watching NASCAR races on TV and ending with a man called One and a job offer Six couldn’t refuse. Now he was here, deceased in the eyes of the law and anyone important who may have asked (not that _that_ was a concern or anything, Six had been a well-behaved, law-abiding citizen, yes sir), and staring as fucking Spiderman vaulted up onto the plane’s wing.

One must have noticed Six’s attention was no longer on him, because he turned around to see the man in question and immediately dropped his head into his hands. Despite only having known him for a few days (just long enough to stage the car crash that granted him his legally dead status), Six could feel the irritation rolling off of One without needing to see his expression.

“What the fuck is he doing up there? I told him it wasn’t a fucking jungle gym.”

“Wait, that’s one of your guys?” Six squeaked before realization dawned and he barely kept himself from slapping his own forehead. Of course that was one of One’s guys, nothing would be in this place where airplanes came to die except other dead things. 

One, presumably choosing to believe that he had the brainpower to reach that conclusion on his own, barely spared the other man an exasperated glance before he took a deep breath and shouted, “Hey, what the fuck are you doing up there?”

To his credit, the mystery madman didn’t so much as flinch at the words, although he did pause in his ascent.

“One, is that you? Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” The words drifted through the air, reaching Six much thinner than they’d originated. Even so, he could clearly hear the man’s British accent, which seemed more than a little unfair. He was already crazy and athletic enough to climb the side of an airplane, which were two points in his favor in Six’s book. As a getaway driver, he could appreciate a little healthy insanity, and the athleticism, well, that didn’t really need an explanation.

One rolled his eyes next to Six. “Is this what happens when I leave? You all just do whatever the fuck you want?”

“Well, you know what they say. When the cat’s away….” Mystery British Madman, who’d resumed scaling the plane after One’s initial question, finally reached the summit and pulled himself up to perch atop it. “Oh, hello! You must be Six,” he called down, waving. Six waved back, at a loss for words due to the fact that this guy had greeted him so casually from the _top of a plane_ that he had just _climbed the outside of._

“Well, we’re going inside,” One said, beginning to walk the remaining distance to the trailer next to the plane with Six in tow. “Don’t think I’m just gonna let you off the hook for this.”

“Alright, see you in there.” He stood up as the other two passed through the door and Six shook his head slightly, wondering if that was a normal occurrence. Based on One’s muttered complaints when he’d first seen the other man up there, it probably was.

Six wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But he didn’t get the chance to decide, because when he ducked around the plastic curtain hanging just past the doorway, One was waiting for him. “Welcome,” he said, spreading his arms to gesture at the room, “to the Haunted House.”

It was pretty impressive, in a “this-dude-might-be-insane” kind of way. There were bulletin boards and glass panes scattered about, newspaper clippings and photographs tacked or taped up to them. Somebody (several people, actually, based on the different handwriting) had written all over everything in red marker, and there were honest-to-God red strings connecting some of the articles. On a table in the middle of the room was a tech setup that probably cost enough to feed a small family for a year. It looked really professional, maybe military grade, and Six wondered how One had gotten his hands on it. Suddenly the middle of the California desert made a whole lot more sense.

“This is our base of operations,” One continued. “All our work goes on in here, you’ll sleep in a different trailer. That’s Two.” Six finally tore his eyes away from the organized chaos around him to focus on the three people sitting by the table. The blond woman, leaning back in her chair with her feet propped up on the table in front of her, nodded once in confirmation. “Three.” The man gave him a smile and a jaunty little wave before turning back to where he’d been fiddling with one of the computers. Before One had a chance to introduce her, the other woman rose and walked over to Six.

“Five,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Uh, Six,” he replied as he shook it, “but I guess you all knew that already.”

Five opened her mouth like she was going to say something else, but got cut off by a muffled _thud_ from the ceiling, followed by a few softer noises, then a body swinging feet-first through the nearest window.

“Have I missed the introductions?” the man from the plane asked as everyone turned to stare at him. Six thought he heard One grumbling behind him, something about a “ _fucking showoff_ ,” and ordinarily Six would have been inclined to agree, but if he could pull off something like that he’d do it all the time too.

“You’re Four, right?” he asked rather than voice those thoughts.

The man nodded. “How’d you know?”

“Well, it was the last number left. Did you really just…?”

Four chuckled and shrugged, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt. Six almost forgot to pay attention to the words that came out of his mouth. “Yeah, you know, the wing reaches out over the roof of this thing. Seemed faster than climbing back down.”

“Mmhmm,” Five hummed, not looking entirely convinced. “Anyway, Six, One seems to think very highly of you as a driver. Said you were the best he’d ever seen. I know it’s hard to believe, but he can actually be pretty nice. Well, sometimes.”

“Oh?” This was news to Six. Sure, he’d known he was a pretty good driver, maybe even very good if he was feeling generous toward himself, but One had given no indication of his own opinions (besides, of course, the fact that he’d at least thought Six was skilled enough to hire in the first place). He turned to One, who was now glaring at Five with unadulterated rage.

“Repeat that disgusting slander again and you’ll be hearing from my lawyers,” he hissed, jabbing a finger at her. Six narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side.

“Did—did you just quote a meme?”

“What?” One blinked, furrowed his brow, blinked again. “No, I—no!”

“No, you definitely did,” Four piped up from where he’d moved to stand next to Six, who had not been prepared to hear that voice so close to his ear. “I know I’ve seen that exact line floating around the internet.”

“Yeah!” At least _someone_ was on his side, unlike the other members of the team, who had decided to forgo backing Six up in favor of looking on with varying degrees of amusement but no real comprehension. “It’s from—oh, what was it called?” He squinted into the middle distance and tapped his fingers on his chin, trying to remember the source. Unfortunately, meme makers were not always great at crediting their material, so Six felt like he couldn’t be blamed for forgetting a show that he’d seen the name of maybe twice.

“Oh!” The satisfied smile on Four’s face was directly at odds with the way his outburst had made Six’s heart try to escape his body. “Primeval! Used to play on the BBC.”

Six snapped his fingers, tossing Four an appreciative grin. “That’s it, thanks!”

One looked back and forth between them, then sighed heavily. “Well, _this_ is going to be a nightmare.”

“What are you talking about?” Four asked, throwing an arm across Six’s shoulders. “I’m sure Six and I will get along great!” Six would have added his own affirmation, if he’d been capable of forming coherent thoughts.

“That’s what worries me,” One muttered, throwing them one last concerned glance before beating a tactical retreat to the computer that Three was working on. Six’s eyes followed him before his attention was stolen by Two, who was using the tip of a switchblade to scrape dirt from under her fingernails.

“You cut yourself doing that, I’m not going to patch you up,” Five announced from across the table, where she seemed to only partially be focusing on the stack of papers in front of her.

“That’s funny, I thought I hired you for that specific skill set,” One said, not even bothering to turn away from the screen. Six could already tell that this was going to be an interesting group to work with.

“Yeah, he’s a weird guy, but don’t worry, he grows on you,” Four told Six, seemingly unaware of the fact that he hadn’t moved his arm. (Six, however, was _very_ aware.)

He considered that statement for a moment. “Like a fungus?”

Four laughed, his whole body shaking next to Six’s. It was contagious; Six found himself laughing along with him. “Oh, you’ll fit in just fine,” Four said, looking sideways at Six.

From this close Six could clearly see his eyes, and wow. They were _really_ green. Like some over-the-top metaphor kind of green, possibly involving gemstones or nature. And were they… were they sparkling? Jesus Christ, Six didn’t stand a chance.

He knew he’d been staring too long when Four raised an eyebrow at him. So of course, he cleared his throat awkwardly and went, “Listen, I saw how you were climbing that plane earlier, and I just gotta ask, are you Spiderman?”

Rather than the chuckle he thought he’d receive, Six got a slightly-left-of-wholesome grin. “That depends,” he said, pausing for dramatic effect. 

“On?” Six prompted when it became clear that Four was waiting for it. His smile widened slightly.

“Do you want me to be?”

“Uh,” Six responded, very eloquently, he thought, considering the situation he’d constructed for himself. Four was still smiling as he walked to the door, Six watching him go in what he wouldn’t exactly consider a gay panic, but perhaps something akin to a bisexual hysteria.

“So,” a voice started by his ear, startling him so badly he nearly fell flat on his ass.

“What the fuck is with you people?!” He glared at the offender, Five, who just laughed.

“He asked, you know,” she told him, continuing at his obvious confusion, “Four. He asked when I thought One would be coming back with you, then waited to go out there. I think he was trying to impress you.”

“Really?” Six couldn’t keep the skepticism out of his tone, but when Five merely nodded, a serene sort of half-smile on her face, he turned a thoughtful gaze to the plastic in front of the door.

“He’s going to be insufferable now that someone else will understand his references though. He was tired of being the youngest, I think.”

“Good,” Six replied. “I get the feeling you could all lighten up a bit.” Five ruffled his hair before rejoining the ghosts crowded around the table. He stuck his head behind the curtain, waving back when Four lifted his hand from his seat on the wing of a different plane, legs hanging over the edge and sunlight shining off of his hair like a beacon for lost travelers. Maybe Six could be one of those travelers.

Oh, he was _so_ fucked. But, like, in the best way possible.

**Author's Note:**

> Back to your regularly scheduled “me inflicting my headcanons on y’all in my notes” time. Flavor of the day: attraction. I feel like Six is the kind of guy who would see someone he found aesthetically attractive and just, shut down. Interacting with them? Pshhh, don’t be ridiculous. He’d much rather admire from afar and never have to actually hold a conversation, because odds are he wouldn’t be able to. But once he got to know someone? Super easy for him to talk to them, even if he had a crush. Conversely, I think Four would be great at flirting with people he found attractive, but the second he realized he actually caught feelings, he’d turn into a mess. They’re kind of opposites that way, which works well for them. (Five highkey ships it, by the way.)
> 
> “Serendipity, I can’t tell if you’re projecting onto Six or Four. Which one is it?” The answer is yes. Also, square up, bitch. (Although in order to avoid any confusion on the subject of my romantic capabilities, I’ll tell you that Four being good at flirting with strangers is in no way self-projection.)
> 
> I really hope the phrase “bisexual hysteria” makes it into the queer lexicon.


End file.
